


Loss

by Enamourous



Series: Letters [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-25 04:35:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/635171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enamourous/pseuds/Enamourous





	Loss

Dean knocks on the door of the hotel room he knows Sam is staying at but there isn’t an answer.

“Sam if you gave me the wrong address I swear to God..,” Dean mutters under his breath as he pounds on the door again, this time more insistent. Still nothing. He leans to the side and is able to see a sliver of the room inside past the curtains. This is most definitely Sam’s room, that’s his stuff on the bed.

Dean takes the liberty of picking the lock and letting himself in. When he gets inside he sees that Sam hasn’t been ignoring him, he’s not there at all. But there’s a note on the bed in Sam’s handwriting, along with something that makes Dean’s heart ache, something that he regretted letting go the second it dropped from his fingers and into the trashcan.

His aching heart stops beating altogether as he reads the letter Sam’s left for him. He only makes it about halfway through before he’s moving, stuffing the letter in his jacket pocket and wrapping the amulet around his hand as he runs to his car.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. It’s only now he’s realizing that Sam’s car is gone from the parking lot. He doesn’t know why he didn’t notice before.

Dean’s in the driver’s seat of the Impala in a second and peeling out of the parking lot before he even realizes that he doesn’t know where the hell he’s going other than to wherever Sam is. Wherever Sam is. He’s listening to the shitty police scanner Garth gave him and trying to breathe because dammit this can’t be happening. Not after everything they’ve been through. This is not how Sam’s going to—

This isn’t how he’s going to lose his brother.

Dean’s vision blurs when he hears reports of a car accident a mile away crackling out through the scanner. No no no no that’s the car Sam’s driving. Sammy no. You didn’t do this, tell me you didn’t do this. And Dean’s driving faster than he has in a long time, pushing the Impala until her engine is humming laboriously under the strain.

He can’t shake the feeling that he’s driving 90mph toward the worst memory he’ll ever make.

He doesn’t know how he makes it there and he doesn’t know how he manages to park and get himself out of the car but his legs are moving him and he can see Sam’s car folded into a power line. There are police and ambulances parked all around, blocking the road, and the lights flashing on the tops of the cars are sending dancing lights reflecting off the mangled metal heap in front of him.

He’s walking toward the accident and as he gets closer he can see the driver’s seat and Jesus fucking Christ Sam’s in it, slumped forward and covered in glass and blood, legs mangled up into a position that would have anyone screaming in pain if they were conscious.

Dean feels a hand catch on his arm as he’s walking but he shakes it off, ignores whatever the person is shouting at him. Can’t think about anything but Sam, getting Sam out of there. Jesus. No no no no no Sam’s gotta be okay he’s gotta be.

When he gets to the wreckage he can smell it, the hot smell of rubber and metal. The door is open and Sam’s right there. Right in front of him now, and Dean can see the blood dripping out of his mouth onto his jeans. Dean’s hands are shaking when he reaches out to touch him, cupping his face and tilting it up. Sam’s eyes are closed and his expression is slack. The left side of his face and eye is purple and swollen.

“Sammy you wake up. Don’t you leave me here,” Dean hears himself say, but his voice sounds strange. Sam’s not responding and Dean’s fighting to see through the blur. He must be crying.

“Dammit Sam! God fucking dammit!” Dean shouts and hits the side of the mangled car as hard as he can.

He feels someone pulling him away and he rips out of their hold but they’re back again in a second, pulling him roughly away and saying something, what are they saying to him?

“—not safe for you to be here you need to get behind the yellow lines Sir,” a firm voice is telling him.

“That’s my brother, he’s my brother. Please,” Dean’s repeating shakily and this time when he rips his arm out of the grip, it doesn’t come back.

When Dean’s beside his brother again he has a hand pressed against his chest, pushing on him, trying shake him awake but it’s no use.

“No no no. You can’t be gone, you can’t. You can’t leave me here Sam none of that shit was true you gotta know that,” Dean’s mumbling out through his tears which are getting too heavy to see through now that he’s realized that he’s too late and his little brother is dead. It’s Sam’s mangled and bloody corpse in front of him, it’s not even his brother anymore. Sam’s gone and Dean was too late to save him.

Dean reaches into the car and unbuckles the seat belt so he can pull Sam’s body close. He holds him there, rocking and brushing his cheek against Sam’s hair. Blood is seeping into his shirt warming his skin and Dean knows that that’s the last of Sam’s life, pouring out over him.

That’s the very last of Sam that Dean will ever have.


End file.
